Revelations
by LoveFromShinola
Summary: At her funeral, Minerva's former students learn something surprising about their former Professor...  Based on the recent revelations about Minerva's past from Pottermore.


**AN:**

**The recent unveiling of the back story of Minerva McGonagall was just so wonderful I had to write something about it. JKR has stated in the past that Minerva had retired by 2017, when Albus Potter and Rose Weasley started school. Then, I got to thinking, that I'm pretty sure a woman like McGonagall wouldn't retire unless she just couldn't do her job decently anymore. A reason for that? Illness. So, I have marked Minerva's date of death as 2020, taking liberties. This is the Golden Trio and others returning to Scotland (more precisely to Hogsmeade) for the funeral of Minerva McGonagall.**

**2020**

**Hogwarts Castle**

**Scotland**

'Hi, Harry.' It was Neville. Next to him stood his wife, Hannah, and somewhere there would no doubt be their children, getting into trouble. Harry just hoped his own three weren't involved. A lamer hope there never was, but he could always dream. Neville looked much the same as he always had, really, and Harry wondered if to Neville he did too. He wore a cardigan underneath his robes, but there was a confidence in him that had grown since their last year that Harry rather liked on him.

'Hey, Neville. How are you?'

'Fine. Sad, of course. But fine. You?'

Harry shook his head, and looked back at Ginny and Hermione, who were tearily standing over the grave, accompanied by a consoling Ron.

'We're holding up. It's just – weird. If that's the right word.'

Neville nodded his agreement.

'Yeah. I know what you mean. Hogwarts just isn't gonna be the same without old McGonagall is it?'

The three of them both looked towards the ground, idly thinking on times gone by. Feeling somewhat awkward and terribly as though he might cry, Harry looked up to excuse himself, but Hannah beat him to it.

'Well, we'd best get going. Everyone's nearly gone now, and Nev needs to get sorted for going back. Lots to do and all.' She gave Harry a sympathetic smile and patted his arm in a friendly way, before leaving the two to say their goodbyes.

'You'd best be off then, _Head of Gryffindor_. Don't want to keep the missus waiting.'

Neville laughed good-heartedly and, as was custom, enveloped Harry in a bear hug, patting him on the back.

'See you later then, Harry. And tell your James if I catch him trying to flog Wizard Wheezes next year I'll kill him.'

'Of course, Professor.' Neville blushed, raised his hand and jogged away. The sun was starting to set and slowly but surely the crowds filed away, leaving only the Potters and the Weasleys in attendance. Harry sidled up to Ginny and slung his arm around her neck, she leant into him, still teary.

'You okay, Gin?'

'Yeah.' She sniffed, not sounding okay in the slightest, 'I'll be fine. I'll miss her though. It won't be the same at Christmas without her popping in. She must've visited everyone on Christmas Day, going here and there.'

'Yeah, yeah I think she did. Lily still in the car?'

'Hm. Al's in there with her. He's playing up his big brother act. Don't know where James is.'

'Do we ever?' she laughed, and Harry saw that his mission as comforter was being fulfilled.

Next to them, Ron and Hermione stood silent, with Hugo in between them. Rose was no doubt wherever James was, causing some unnecessary damage. After a few beats of contemplative silence, Hermione spoke up and everyone's faces turned.

'Why's she buried here? Hogsmeade? Why not Hogwarts with Dumbledore, or Caithness with her family? Why here?'

The company shrugged. It was sad to realise that they didn't know much about Minerva McGonagall. To them, like all teachers, she had existed only in the classroom. Gradually, she had come to exist as an elderly relative might, making visits at holidays and on birthdays, at parties and gatherings. Despite having known her since the age of eleven, the four adults knew nothing about her life before Hogwarts, except that she had been born in Caithness in Scotland, that her father had been a Muggle, her mother a witch. And, as they'd learned only that day, she'd had two brothers: Malcolm and Robert. Though both brothers were deceased, their children were not, and had said their goodbyes and left some time earlier to grieve in private.

'Maybe she liked Hogsmeade. This is where she moved after retirement, right?' said Ron, 'And she was always a fan of the Three Broomsticks.'

The rest of them seemed to accept this, until Hermione, ever the observant one, looked at the adjoining grave.

'Oh my God!'

Everyone turned, expecting to see some threat or be confronted with a creature, instead only seeing Hermione down on her hands and knees, tracing her finger across the grave of one, as Harry read, _'Elphinstone Urquart.'_

'What's it say?' asked Ron, and Hermione read out:

'_Elphinstone Urquart, born 1926, died 1985. Devoted son, kind brother, much missed uncle, loyal friend. Beloved husband to Minerva.'_

'No way!' Ron exclaimed. 'Old McGonagall? She was _married? _How did we not know this?'

'He died when you were four years old, Ronald. Dead husbands don't come up much in conversation. McGonagall was private, we all know that.' Ginny seemed not at all shocked as her husband and her brother. Hugo had run to tell the news to his sister and cousins. Hermione too, seemed to take the revelation in her stride.

'It couldn't be – I don't know – _another _Minerva could it?' Harry posed.

'And this Minerva just _happened _to be buried next to him? Get with it, Harry!' Hermione rolled her eyes, stood and went back to looking between the two markers.

'She never wore a wedding ring!' Ron burst out, seeming to think that this solved the problem.

'Would _you_ wear your ring if _I _died?' Hermione asked.

'Course I would!' Ron protested.

'Not if no-one knew. If no-one knew we were married and I died, you wouldn't wear it.'

Ron opened his mouth, but Ginny interjected.

'You wouldn't wear it because you wouldn't want kids asking you who your husband was. She was obviously crushed.'

That seemed to put an end to it. The four of them stood, staring between the two stones, until the kids came crashing in. James, Lily, Albus. Rose and Hugo. All five of the cousins gathered round to stare open-mouthed at the inscription.

'Whoa,' said James, 'hands up, Hugo! I _so _thought you were lying!'

'Me too,' breathed Albus, 'sorry Hu.'

'That's okay,' shrugged Hugo, evidently used to being ignored and distrusted. Young ones got that a lot.

'We have to tell!' shrieked Rose, evidently piqued in excitement stakes.

'No.' said Hermione and Ginny together, flatly, and all the assembled turned in one or the others direction.

'If – if she didn't tell us she didn't really want everyone to know. You know McGonagall,' said Hermione, gesturing to the adults. 'She didn't want pity. She wouldn't want it, even now. We tell no-one,' she ended, eyeing the children and men especially, 'got that?'

Reluctantly, first Ron, then Harry, then the children, nodded and shuffled their feet. The light was dying and the ceremony long since over. The fresh turned earth and tokens in front of Minerva's marble tombstone looked out of place, too bright for such a dull and sullen place. Without speaking, the families turned, one by one, until only Hermione was left standing there, tracing the names with her eyes.

'What other things didn't you tell us?' she asked the air, whispering. 'What other secrets were there? You were more than we ever knew, weren't you? You'd suffered even more than we thought.' She turned, but then looked back, one, final time. 'I hope to God my daughter grows up like you. Goodbye, Professor.'

**AN:**

**Please review! Even to tell me it's rubbish Thank you.**


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